


whisky lullabies

by Moonberrycat



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, also this is just a huge bundle of headcanons shoved together, and horrible coping skills, basically i'm just shoving all of my problems onto them but giving them a happy ending, chronically ill!sportacus, instead they get pain and borderline traumatic memories, my precious sons love each other so much, they just want each other to be happy and healthy, trans!robbie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonberrycat/pseuds/Moonberrycat
Summary: please be my saving grace, (two men need each other more than they think)





	1. side one

It's funny how the mind can subconciously remember the sounds from your worst living nightmares, the dreams you prayed to wake up from. The 2pm yelling and the slammed doors and choking back tears and being called _selfish_ when you're caught trembling against the back of your wall pleading _"please stop"_ and _"not again"_. It hurts so much yet your brain latches onto the memory like it's the only lifeline to reality that it has left. It burns like fire and twists your stomach in knots and you fear making another mistake deserving of that glare, that _tone_ like nails on a chalkboard that reminds you of what little purpose you truly have.

It's even funnier when those memories flood your sleeping subconcious.

Robbie Rotten, Lazytown's 'villian' extraordinaire, awoke with a gasp. His hands formed fists and gripped the fur of his orange chair. His breaths were short and quick and his body trembled in the near-silence of his lair. Slowly, he pulled himself back into reality and let his body relax against his chair. He was horribly exhausted and it was only midnight yet he knew sleep would avoid him. He had tried in the past and ended up staying up for hours on end flinching at any unusual noise and his mind racing. It was frustrating, certainly, but he still knew there was nothing to be done about it. With a sigh, he stood and went into his kitchen. At first his only plan was to make a cup of coffee. More creamer than coffee, obviously, and enough packets of sugar to make a normal human being sick to the stomach, but coffee nevertheless.

He grabbed a cup, but before he could get started a decently sized bottle caught his eye. With that, an idea occurred. Certainly, it was a bad one, but it was one that his tired mind was unable to refuse. After all, it never is a bad time to have a little kahlua, right?

Making up a cup of hot chocolate was a bit more work than he thought it would be, but he knew it was worth while once he tasted his warm alcoholic beverage. He knew he was a lightweight but that still didn't stop him from pouring far too much into the drink. At the very least this would knock him out even with the threat of a hangover above him.

He sipped from his mug absentmindedly, his mind growing fuzzier and body warmer the longer he drank. He didn't notice when he started crying--his body trembling to the point of nearly spilling his drink, quiet sobs filling his lair--and but by the time he did it was far too late for him to stop.

"Robbie?"

He spun around in surprise before stumbling forward dizzily towards the person. "Spo-Sportacus." A bit of a doofy smile touched his face as he said the hero's name.

"My crystal went off, is something--" Sportacus stopped mid-sentance which confused Robbie. It was when Sportacus' hands started brushing the tears off of his face was when he became unconfused. "You're crying. Robbie, what's wrong?" It took a few moments for his worried question to register.

"Can't-can't sleep." He eventually slurred before more tears rolled down his cheek and were brushed away by the other man. "I'm so tired. I don't want to remember. I can't sleep when I remember." Robbie babbled in between his sobs and although he didn't _want_ to tell the hero this he was unable to stop his near-incoherent ramblings.

"I don't want to remember that I'm really a _girl_ that's just a huge failure and that all my parents arguments were my fault because if I wasn't around they wouldn't need to be angry I ruin and destroy and break _everything_ good and kind in this world. I'm horrible. I'm _supposed_ to be a girl but I can't and I wish I could just to make someone happy. I'm sorry, I'm so-"

He didn't know why he spilled so much of himself out right then and there and he didn't know when he dropped his drink or when Sportacus wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tight against him and whispering gentle reassurements. All he knew was that he was hollow and open and sobbing in the arms of the person that should hate him the _most_ but doesn't. 

Robbie feels Sporticus pick him up and he flinches for a second, afraid of being hurt, but quickly relaxes in his arms. He knows he's being settled onto his chair and blind panic fills him as he grips the man's shirt. "Please-don't-" he begins to plead, "Please don't go." 

There's stillness and silence for a few moments and Robbie is afraid to open his eyes and see the judgement on his face. He feels the warmth of Sportacus beside him, around him, as his arms are wrapped around him again. He can only quietly thank the hero before he finds himself drifting off into sleep. For the first time in years, Robbie feels safe.


	2. side two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know that this headcanon is a weird one but??? no one tells the mayor what to do :^)

Sportacus was afraid. It was incredible, really, the 'slightly-above-average hero' was _afraid_. What made the situation worse was that it was such a silly, childish thing he was afraid of. Pain.

He wasn't afraid of scraping a knee or landing a flip badly--no, he was afraid of a more personal kind of physical pain. He was afraid of waking up to stiffness in his joints; struggling to stretch and move for a half an hour until his body is willing to cooperate, he was afraid of being unable to walk for days at a time because the pain caused his legs to give out, he was afraid of using crutches and walkers and canes and in-store wheelchairs despite _looking_ like a healthy normal person.

Although Sportacus was in remission, and has been since he was young, but he still remembers. Hospital visits and sleepless nights and more shots and bloodwork then a boy his age should ever have to expirence and doctor's saying that everything's going to be alright. He remembers the way it felt to be so tired, so weak, so hopeless.

It's the main reason he became the person he is today--so strong, powerful, capable. He taught himself to flip and to jump and to do all of his fancy tricks to build not only his weakened body, but his weakened spirit as well. The thought of losing all that he had gained--his confidence (he was so shy and afraid, afraid of causing himself more pain then he already expirenced), joy (he smiles so often and so brightly because there once was a time he could barely smile at all), and his ability to always protect the people he loved the most (he knew what it was like to be all alone and small and helpless and never wants those around him to expirience that kind of hurt)--chipped at his optimisim and caused sharp spikes of anxiety to fill his chest.

Today was a hard day. He sat alone on a bench in town with phantom pains in his hands and feet and shaky breaths and fear of any of the children coming by and seeing their role model so crushed, so _broken_ lingering and building in his chest like all the rest of the words he swallowed down.

" _Sportaflop?_ " He heard a familiar voice question with a lack of malice that added a sense of guilt to the emotions he was already feeling. "What's wrong with _you?_

Sportacus slowly raised his head, meeting Robbie's eyes tiredly with an unspoken _i'm fine_ lingering on the tip of his tongue. The words wouldn't come out though, they were stuck like glue and he knew then that lying to the man would hurt worse than telling the truth. "I'm afraid." A shiver went up his spine as he spoke and he felt like there was cotton in his mouth but the words came out and they filled the space between them.

He watched Robbie sit beside him. " _Afraid?_ Of what?" He heard the man scoff. He could feel his eyes bore into him and really, he knows he's gone far too deep now. He's said too much and Robbie is just as stubborn of a man as Sportacus can be.

So he spills. He begins to shake and tears roll down his cheeks and he rambles on and on about his expirences and his pain and how he's afraid of being useless and weak again and that he fears burdening the town and how he's so tired of feeling sensations that he knows really aren't there.

Robbie listens silently and for a moment Sportacus fears that the man fell alseep, but when he looks over he sees him staring with gentle eyes. He's pulled into an embrace and he realizes how much he really needs this. Warmth and closeness and tenderness and he buries his face into Robbie's neck and wraps his arms around him.

"Sportaflop, you absolute _walnut_ , everybody in town would help take care of you if you were to relapse even if that meant dragging you around everywhere to be able to watch the kids play. You're very important to everyone here, after all, it'd be counter-intuitive to _not_ be there for you at your darkest time."

He huffed a laugh at the playful insult, but fought back more tears at the tender words that came afterwords. "Even you? Would you be there?" He had to ask, he had to know. He didn't really understand why he needed too, but he felt it had to do with how gently Robbie was treating him.

The embrace he was in tightened, and he felt Robbie's head press against his own.

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is....horrible...im so sorry hahaha also sorry it took so long to finish it i'm horrible

**Author's Note:**

> POV what's that lmao :^)
> 
> also happy near year y'all here's to a less cruddy year and more lazytown memes!!


End file.
